


Bonding activities

by JauntyHako



Category: Saints Row
Genre: Blowing shit up in a tank, Fluff, M/M, Smut, Surprise Threesomes, The Boss is totally a NyteBlayde fan, poor communication skills
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-23
Updated: 2015-07-15
Packaged: 2018-04-05 20:13:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4193379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JauntyHako/pseuds/JauntyHako
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If you make your sexual debut with the president of the United States/God-Emperor for life, does that qualify you as their boyfriend or fuckbuddy?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Have some smut this chapter and in the next there will be (ridiculous) plot. Then smut again. It's like a porn-plot-porn sandwich.  
> Enjoy!

The first time they'd had sex, the Boss had been indulgent with him. Hell, he'd taken the time to get them to a proper bed, in a room without security cameras all over. Kinzie was hard enough to deal with without a porn tape of the Boss and Matt in her hands. And what a porn tape that would have been. Matt had spent most of the time with his face buried in the pillow, cheeks hot from embarrassment at having fingers in his ass.

 

“Fuck, look at you, you're gorgeous.” The Boss said and every other time Matt would have brushed the compliment off with some witty remark.

“Shut up.” he said instead, labouring to get even this much out between his ragged breathing and pathetic whining.

“The hell I will. Fuck, you should see yourself. Next time I'm gonna fuck you in front of a mirror and make you watch the whole way through. Come on, spread your legs for me, show me your pretty hole. That's it, no need to be shy. Can't wait to be inside you, pound your ass until its all pink and tender. You ever been spanked?”

Matt mutely shook his head, too preoccupied with holding himself up, trying to ignore how exposed he felt naked and ass in the air with the Boss still fully clothed kneeling behind him, fingering and spreading his hole. God, he was _looking_ at it, and that wasn't a place Matt ever thought someone would look at. Not with this degree of joy at least.

“You're kidding me, right? You were a right little prick when you worked with the Syndicate and you're telling me no one ever put you over their knee?”

“I was _sixteen_.” he protested and yelped as the Boss smacked his ass.

“So what? I was younger than that when I got my first spanking. Hell, I was younger when I first doled out those smacks. Want me to go again?”

No. Yes. And what was with all the fingering anyway, shouldn't he be putting his dick in him already? He was about to ask for just that when the Boss spanked him again, just a little harder than last time.

“I could do this all fucking day. You twitch and moan like a whore, you know that? No, don't stop, it's hot as fuck. Let me hear you.”

Matt squeezed his eyes shut as the Boss added another finger and pushed them in deep, curling them just so. He'd been prepared for it to burn, every bit of research (okay, fanfiction) told him that the first time hurt. But so far the only thing hurting was his cock from being hard so long.

“Just get on with it, Jesus.” he complained, rocking weakly back against the Boss' fingers.

“Not yet. Have to open you up proper first, get you loose and sloppy for me.”

“ _God_ …”

The cold sensation told him that the Boss had added another generous dose of lube, even though half of the stuff had to be already dripping down his thighs.

He turned to look over his shoulder to tell the Boss in no uncertain terms that if he didn't fuck him right now, he'd walk away and finish the job himself. The Boss interrupted him by leaning over and kissing him, licking into his mouth and dragging his teeth over Matt's lower lip. His cock pressed against his ass and suddenly more preparation seemed not such a bad idea after all. He must have noticed Matt's shiver, because he turned to kiss his shoulder blades with gentle pecks and murmured: “Relax. It won't hurt, I promise.”

Matt nodded, but still dug his fingers into the sheets to ground himself as he heard the Boss opening up his jumpsuit.

If his inner monologue was any more coherent, instead of a repeating litany of _OhgodOhGodOhGodOhGodOhGodOhgodOhGodOhGodOhGodOhGod_ he would have probably wondered why the Boss was so gentle with him, even though the same Boss routinely got what he called “post-adrenaline boners” but what was more likely an unhealthy appreciation for lethal violence. The point was it was strange, if not unwelcome, to feel the Boss stroking his hair while he pressed into him, muttering praises under his breath.

“That's it, you're doing so well. There you go. Does it hurt?”

It didn't. His whole body shook from the tension, sweat dripping down with each shiver, but there was no pain whatsoever.

“Talk to me. How does it feel to have my cock in you, huh?”

The Boss pulled out a little and pushed back in in one smooth motion, rocking their bodies together in a slow rhythm.

“It- it's good.” Matt panted, half crazy from the constant pressure.

“That's it?” The Boss asked with mock indignation as he sucked and bit at Matt's neck.

“ _Very_ good. What do you expect me to say, mate?”

He realised his mistake too late. The Boss shook with laughter, but he also picked up his pace a bit. “We're a little past the stage where you call me mate, don't you think?”

Matt whimpered helplessly, momentarily speechless as the Boss fucked him harder. If he got rewarded with this every time he said something stupid in bed, maybe he didn't need to remind himself to keep his mouth shut after all.

“Now, come on. I know you know the words. I've _read_ NyteRyder, you know?”

“Please don't bring that up now.”

“Only if you use your big boy words. Come on, Matt.”

“I _can't._ ”

He pushed back against the Boss' cock, desperate for release. If he would only reach around and give him a few quick strokes that'd be all he needed.

“Yes, you can. Make you a deal, you tell me what a little slut you are for my cock and I let you cum, how's that sound?”

It sounded like cruel and unusual punishment. He almost started crying, embarrassed at even the thought of doing what the Boss wanted him to do.

“Please, just … please, don't make me do this, I _can't_.”

He was so close, damn this man for drawing it out as long as he did. The boss didn't hold back anymore, pounding him too fast for their sweaty skin to stick together, making soft noises, suppressed grunts, broken groaning that, together with the fingers pressing into his hips hard enough to leave bruises flattered Matt more than any compliment ever did. He did that. He made the Boss, the fucking president of the United States stifle his moans with hot open-mouthed kisses all along his back. He wondered what kind of reaction he'd cause if he did 'use his big boy words'.

“I'm your cockslut.” he whispered, too fast to be understood in any case. But the Boss did falter in his rhythm for a moment, dragging his hand through Matt's hair and pulling his head back with gentle force as he picked it up again.

“What was that?”

“I'm your cockslut.” Matt repeated and the reaction he got, a breathless _oh fuck yes_ kept him talking, even as the boss took his cock in hand and started stroking. “I love having y- your cock in me, I love you filling me up and stretching me open and … and fucking me until I can't take it anymore.”

He took the Boss' incoherent rambling as encouragement and continued, drawing from years of dirty fanfiction.

“I'll jerk off to this later, I'll finger myself and imagine it's you. And next time I'll sit in your lap and I'll ride you until you forget your own name, although someone has probably done that already, but I'll give you a taste of your own medicine for being a damn tease and just _make me come already_.”

For once the Boss obliged.

Matt crashed over the edge still talking, if only strings of _fuck, yes, yes, oh fuck._ The Boss cupped the tip of his cock, his cum in his hand before it wet the sheets. Sometime in between the Boss must have come as well, if the not entirely lube-induced wetness between his cheeks was anything to go by.

Not that he could be bothered by that at the moment. His knees gave out under him but the Boss caught him before he fell and drew him close. The suspicion formed that this was how post-coital cuddling started. Matt's theory got further proof as the Boss sighed contendedly and kissed the top of his head, making no attempts whatsoever to get up or kick Matt out. The only thing he did was to grab a few tissues from the nightstand and wipe his hands clean. He took the not-being-kicked-out as permission to rest his head timidly on the Boss' shoulder, right hand on his chest. His heart just started slowing down and it felt unexpectedly nice to concentrate on that.

But, because he couldn't keep his mouth shut for longer than five minutes, he had to fall back on the whole “was it good for you, too?” routine.

“So … I, uh, wasn't horrible, was I?”

The Boss had the nerve to pinch his cheek.

“You did okay, kid, don't worry.”

Matt huffed.

“I think we're a little past the stage where you call me kid.” he said and pursed his lips when the Boss laughed.

“Fair enough.”

And that was it, for a while. Matt had never been the cuddly type of person, and was at least sixty percent sure he still wasn't, but he wouldn't be able to get up now if the Zin stood outside. How some people managed to leave right after sex, when he felt positively boneless, was beyond him. So it was laziness more than emotional attachment that led him to snuggle closer and shut his eyes. 


	2. Chapter 2

 

When Matt woke after that, the Boss was gone, with Johnny on a trip to 1916's Ireland according to Kinzie, who threw him a few sideways glances but didn't comment on the fact that he'd come out of the Boss' room.

“Whose side are they on?” he asked pointedly casual.

Kinzie shrugged.

“When they left they hadn't decided yet, but they'll probably just end up racking up the casualty counts on both sides.”

Business as usual then.

For a while he occupied himself with writing new training simulations, more out of habit than any real need. Asha still hadn't beaten the last one he threw at her, a fact which pleased him immensely. He tried not too hard to think about having no idea where he and the Boss stood at the moment. Idiot that he was he'd gone for the insanely clichéd “how was I” and yet completely failed to take the equally clichéd “what are we?” question and at least gather some useful information. Chances stood the Boss had taken this only as a casual fuck, but what if he hadn't? What if deflowering virgins somehow equaled romantic relations with them and he expected Matt to act like a proper boyfriend on his return? Which, honestly, raised more questions than it answered, not the least of which what proper boyfriend-behaviour was for a man who was gang banger, president and ruler of an galactic empire all in one. Matt had relationships before, contrary to the unfounded slander of some people, thank you very much. But even he had to admit that experience with one girlfriend who felt daring and cool for dating someone with his own gang (a someone who, incidentally, could also 'buy' her diamonds. And not just any diamonds, but the kinds that had _names_. Beat that, Jeff 'I took my girlfriend to my parents' beachfront cottage in California' Masterson) didn't quite measure up to the requirements of (possibly) dating one of the most dangerous and powerful men in the known universe.

 

Turned out he worried needlessly. Over the next few weeks the Boss started ordering him casually to meet him in his room every now and then. It wasn't like keeping secrets on a spaceship was an option, but even so obediently slinking into the Boss' room under the eyes of every Saint had taken getting used to. After the first time the Boss was never again as caring as he'd been, but it wasn't like Matt needed the satin gloves anymore. In fact, he found not minding the rough up against the wall fucking at all, not even when teeth came into play, leaving marks that told him that the Boss was used to drawing blood but held back for him. He wondered who the Boss'd fucked before that would allow this much and more violence. Or he pretended not to know at least. He didn't need to give himself an inferiority complex by comparing himself to Johnny Gat.

In the end it didn't matter. The sex was good and there were no complications that would force him to actually deal with prolonged and deep social interaction. Fuck buddies it was and it was an arrangement Matt could easily live with.

 

He thought it couldn't get better until the Boss one day showed up in the cargo hold and, when Matt got up, ready for another round of mindblowing sex, only made him sit back down and slouched next to him on the sofa, saying: “How many seasons of NyteBlayde are there, exactly?”

Breathe and risk scaring this perfect moment away with the slightest motion or don't breathe and risk passing out and missing this moment?

“Uh, um … five? But there are comic books as well, which expand on the cosmology in the universe much mo-”

“Yeah, okay. You don't happen to have them around, do you?”

“As a matter of fact, I do. The complete collector's edition, that's the one with the two hours of extra bonus scen- … why?”

“I just thought we could watch them?” The Boss suggested, shrugging half-heartedly. Maybe he'd finally grown bored of the simulation and got cabin fever. Matt couldn't explain it else.

“You really wanna watch NyteBlayde? With me?”

“Sure. I mean, I bet you have at least some other training simulations based on the stuff lying around. Might be handy to know the background, right?”

Right, of course. The simulation _had_ grown boring and now he was looking for alternatives. Still, Matt took what he got and he would make a NyteBlayder out of the Boss yet.

Two seasons and one day later they hung in each other's arms, using each other's jumpsuits as substitutes for the tissues that had run out seven episodes ago.

“How could Marion die again without NyteBlayde ever coming to terms with his feelings for her?”

“This was all the Cannoness' plan, but knowing it doesn't make it any easier.”

“I thought when they brought her back they could have a chance.”

“NyteBlayde can never love until the Darkness is destroyed, but why must he suffer so?”

“Are you two okay?”

Matt and the Boss looked up, each with smudged eyeliner and blotchy cheeks.

“God, Kinzie, you have to watch this. The drama, the pain.”

“Yeah, already tried it once. Bit boring, actually.”

That drew a scandalised gasp from the two.

“Kinzie, I'm going to pretend you didn't say that. This is a masterpiece of modern storytelling, you wouldn't understand.”

“I really wouldn't. Anyway, Boss, Johnny called in, he's taking over the first atom bomb testing and wanted to know if you'd be up for it.”

The Boss perked up immediately.

“Hell yeah. Hey, Matt, you wanna come, too? It'll be fun.”

But Matt only waved him away.

“No no, you go ahead. I need some time to collect myself.”

The Boss looked disappointed, apparently historical atom bomb testing went along the principle of the more the merrier, but he let Matt be and went off to time travel for Johnny.

 

They had a pretty good thing going, Matt decided, ignoring the way Pierce laughed at him as he went past. Maybe he walked with a bit of a spring in his step, so what? The Boss had just come by and told him to meet him in the bedroom in five and he'd looked pretty excited, which probably meant that in a few short minutes Matt would be excited too, though in an entirely different way.

He didn't expect eight inches of Johnny Gat he never wanted to see.

“ _Oh my God._ ” Matt cried out in something he'd deny to be a shriek.

“Hey Matt.” The Boss said, sitting equally unclothed next to Johnny, and gave him a happy wave. Matt tried his best to shield his eyes as he searched for the sensor that would allow him to open the door again and run for life and sanity.  
“If this is your way of telling me you replaced me, it's a bit tasteless.” he said, wishing to God Johnny would at least cross his legs or something. Did he really have to lounge on the bed like a greek god, rubbing every little perfection in Matt's face? Not to mention the fact that he _still_ had his sunglasses on.

“Replacing you? What are you talking about?”

The Boss sounded genuinely confused enough for Matt to abandon his flailing for the door opener, although he still stared at the ceiling as he said: “I don't know, Boss. What am I supposed to think if I find you making out with your best friend just after you told me to meet you here?”

“We weren't making out …”

“Not the point!”

The Boss must have realised that whatever plan they'd sprung didn't work out the way they wanted, for he got up and closed in on Matt, who despite being the only one clothed here, still felt the most vulnerable. Johnny, at least, had the decency to sit up straight and throw a pillow over his lap. It wasn't like Matt would ever be able to forget what he'd seen, but his effort was appreciated nonetheless.

“I just thought it'd be fun. Johnny's really good in a threesome.”

“Threesome?!” Again, not a shriek. Anyone who claimed otherwise would receive a handcrafted virus.

The Boss shrugged helplessly. He put his hand on Matt's shoulder but he shrugged him off, ignoring the dejected look.

“Yeah. You know, couple bonding activities. I talked to Kinzie. You didn't want to come to the atom bomb testing, so I figured this was a good idea.”

“Bringing your best friend to bed is _not_ a bonding activity. It is, in fact, ver- couple?”

Matt blinked, mouth hanging slightly open, whereas the boss still looked as apologetic as before.

“Told you the kid wouldn't get the message.” Johnny said and for a blessed moment Matt had forgotten he was in the room with them. “Boss, really, you need to use your words. Don't go all playa again.”

Johnny Gat was maybe the only person in the world who was able to make the Boss blush. It looked adorable and under different circumstances Matt might have appreciated it more.

“We're a … you think we've be- you know what, I don't care.” he said, and thought his statement would have more impact if he was actually able to look the Boss in the eye. “Springing a bloody threesome on me out of nowhere is not, and will not ever be, appropriate.” Matt was about one wrong word away from stomping his foot. He chose not to give the Boss, or Johnny, the satisfaction. “I'm leaving now.” He turned and found that he'd been looking for the door opener on the wrong side. He brushed against it, reminding himself that punching it wouldn't do any good, and stalked out with as much dignity as he could muster.

 

It shouldn't be possible to avoid two people at the same time when stuck on a spaceship but Matt managed to pull it off. Mostly by hiding behind the crates in the cargo hold until Johnny and the Boss went off in the simulation or time traveling and then attempting not to notice the looks the rest of the Saints shot him.

“I take it the Boss trying to bond with you didn't go well?” Kinzie asked. Matt was smart enough not to mistake it for concern. She had warmed up to him somewhat lately, but she was also always on the hunt for more gossip. Matt only grunted, pretending to be fully engrossed by the code he was writing. Then he frowned.

“How do you even know he was trying to bond? Wait.” Matt turned his chair around to Kinzie. “He talked to _you_. That's what he said. What on earth made you tell him a threesome was a 'couple bonding activity'?”

“What? I never told him that. Is that what he did?”

Matt frowned at her giggling.

“ _Not_ a word of this to anyone, understand? You must have said something to put the idea in his head. I didn't deserve that.”  
“I didn't say anything. Well, except the usual stuff, you know? I told the Boss if he wanted to get more domestic with you he should try to take an interest in what you like or share something that's important to him. How could I know he'd think 'threesome' instead of, I don't know …”  
“Watching NyteBlayde with me …” Matt mumbled, realisation dawning on him. “And he tried to share something with me. _Johnny_ is important to him.”

Kinzie raised her eyebrows.

“You got the chance to have sex with the Boss _and_ Johnny Gat at the same time and you ran? Aren't you supposed to be a genius?”

He barely registered Kinzie's not-quite-insult. His only thought surrounded on whether or not he'd completely fucked this up.

 

“So what's up with you and the kid?” Johnny asked as they crouched behind a car wreck, ducking in and out of cover as they shot up the approaching Zin. The Boss took his time answering and careful aimed at and blasted a Zin's head off, the angle of his shot causing the head to hit another between the legs.

“Talk about giving head!” he shouted, grinning at Johnny's muffled laughter. He let Johnny take the stage while he reloaded, tapping a rhythm to the sound of gunfire.

“I like him.” he said in response to Johnny's question. “In the biblical sense.”

“I figured. He didn't seem to be on the same page as you, though.”

“Yeah, no kidding. I think …”

Their conversation got interrupted by reinforcements flanking them and forcing them out of cover. They made a run for a nearby alley, diving behind the dumpster that got promptly blown up. The shockwave threw them both back, the impact knocking the air out of the Boss' lungs as he hit the ground. Simulated pain did his best to live up to his real-world counterpart. The Zin used the break in fire to close in on them, outnumbering even Johnny and the Boss. Forcing deep breaths and ignoring the ringing in his ears the Boss got up and helped up Johnny before using his telekinesis to pile up two cars in the alleyway. They jumped on top of it and, rifles in hand, rained fire down onto the approaching Zin. Half of the enemy shots missed and hit the, still intact, cars instead. One already started smoking. Johnny had seen it, too, by his grin and signal to jump at his command. A few strategically thrown hand grenades forced even more Zin troops closer to the now burning vehicles.

The both shot in the air with superpowered strength as the cars exploded under them, taking a good deal of Zin with them. Wheezing with laughter they landed on a nearby rooftop, leaning on each other to keep from falling over.

“Okay. What next?”

“Catch our breaths, then naval warfare?” The Boss suggested.

“Sure, sounds fun. Make a stop and get some fast food on the way? Can't Kinzie get us a Freckle Bitch's here?”

She could but adamantly refused on account of “not wanting to waste her time programming a completely superfluous extra”. The Boss knew. He'd asked.

“Might take some bribery.” he said. They sat down on the roof, leaning against the airducts and occasionally shooting a Zin on his hoverbike out of the air.

“Probably. Hey, when'd you tell the kid you were all mushy in love with him?”

“… never?”

Johnny gaped at the Boss.

“Never? Fucking seriously?”

The Boss shrugged helplessly.

“It never came up, okay? And don't you fucking facepalm at me!”

“I facepalm if I fucking want to! You can't just assume he'll understand, hell you didn't even tell him you were in a relationship. That's the kind of thing you usually tell your partner. Fuck Jesus, no wonder he freaked out.”

“Okay, I get it, I suck at this. Any advice, Mr-knows-all-about-relationships?”

“Here's what you gonna d-”

The Boss never found out what wisdom Johnny would have bestowed upon him. Their conversation got interrupted by the telltale glowing of a new person arriving in the simulation. They stared.

“Speak of the devil.”

“Um, hey Boss. Johnny.”

Matt nodded to both of them, shifting from one foot to the other until an errand spray of bullets forced him to duck into cover between Johnny and the Boss, cursing under his breath.

“Oh yeah. There are Zin all over the place.”

“No fucking shit?”

There were few things sexier than Matt swearing. Perhaps because usually Matt was at his filthiest when writhing in the sheets, or against a wall or bend over some crates, his ass filled with the Boss' cock. Matt saying 'fuck' triggered one hell of a Pavlovian response. Out of all the Saints Matt swore the least. Then again, he wasn't an official Saint. Maybe they should get him canonized already, or hell, skip that part completely. It wasn't like he hadn't taken his fair share of beatings for and from the Saints. But something to make it official. A tattoo maybe. The fleur de lis in purple ink, somewhere private. The Boss wasn't too bad with a needle, maybe he could do it himself. Pull the kid over his lap and feel him squirm while he marked him for the Saints once and for all. Listening to how much he'd swear from the pain.

“Wanna join us for some boating? Cruising around, blowing up other boats, maybe catch some fish, whaddya think?” Johnny asked, since the Boss was still too spaced out to properly hold a conversation.

“Maybe later. I was actually hoping I could borrow the Boss for a bit. For, um, training.”

The mention of his name brought the Boss out of his haze. Tucking his idea away for later he shared a brief nonverbal conversation with Johnny, who indicated that if he didn't take the kid up on his offer, he'd do something horrible with the butt end of his rifle.

“Sure, yeah, I have time.” the Boss said therefore and tried not to grin like an idiot as Matt's expression lit up.

“Splendid. Just follow me, and I'll load up the simulation.”

“Have fun!” Johnny called after them, figuring that if the two lovebirds had their fun elsewhere, there'd be more carnage for him. His GPS pointed to the nearet harbour he set off in leaping bounds.

 

 

“Not that I'm complaining or anything, but what happened to hiding from me?” The Boss asked as they jumped from rooftop to rooftop.

“It's best to just show you. I, um, talked to Kinzie, though.”

The Boss huffed and ran up a building to get higher and do some backflips until he was on Matt's level again. He'd gotten more graceful at this whole leaping thing since he had a winged Johnny Gat to compete with. It wasn't showing off. People had to know. Matt was still focused on the route. He hadn't even noticed his little stunt.

“Talking to Kinzie doesn't always yield the best results. Just sayin'.” The Boss said.

“That is actually kind of what this is about. And would you please stop spinning like that? You're giving me vertigo.”  
Pouting at Matt, who of course had his back turned on him and thus didn't see, the Boss restricted himself to short jumps that didn't look the tiniest bit impressive but at least kept him close to Matt.

“Look, about that, I -”

“Can we talk later?” Matt interrupted. “I'd really like to show you this simulation before we do that.”

The Boss raised his brows. The last time Matt had been this excited about a simulation it had been self-insert NyteBlayde fanfiction.

“Please tell me you didn't make a simulation out of NyteRyder.”

The sight of Matt's cheeks turning a delightful shade of pink was worth the deathglare he got.

“Oh my God, are you never going to let this go?”

“Probably not.” The Boss said cheerfully.

“Ugh. Anyway, it's not. It's …”

 

Carnage. Beautiful, vicious, blooming mayhem. A closed off military compound full of weapons, vehicles and plenty, _plenty_ , of victims.

“You get extra points for specific kill methods.” Matt explained, stepping aside to let the Boss mount the hoverbike with a mini-nuke launcher attached to its front.

“Yeah, like what?”

“Strangling people with their own intestines gets you double the worth of a normal kill. Triple for doing it with someone else's. Twenty five percent on top of that if it's is still connected to the body. There's also interesting things you can do with barbed wire but I'll let you discover that for yoursel- … are you crying?”

The Boss wiped away his tears and pressed a hand to his chest.

“It's good, I'm fine. I'm fine. I'm just so touched that you would all of this for me. If you tell me now that this is a co-op simulation I might just marry you.”

“Please don't.” Matt said as he swung himself on the bike behind the Boss. “I look horrible in a tux.”

 

“You're a genius, Matt! A pure, unadultered genius!” The Boss shouted later over the sound of explosions. “A mini-gun that uses grenades for ammo. Fucking genius.”

Matt laughed despite himself, even as the simulated baddies let out very real sounding screams.

“Cheers.”

They were back to back to each other, the Boss' bare shoulders towering over his, and radiating heat as if it was him on fire and not the group of people to their left.

“Cheers in-fucking-deed. Are you gonna tell me which NyteBlayde episode this is based on? I don't think I've seen it yet.”

“Am I that transparent?”

They made a break for the tank, providing cover fire for each other as one stormed forward and the other followed.

“I just know you well.”

The gunfire quieted down after they shut the lid over themselves, the Boss immediately diving for the laser gun, while Matt took driving controls. It would have been much easier for one of them to mount the turret, but the Boss behind him, arms slung around him and chin resting on his shoulder as he lit the approaching enemies ablaze, was too alluring to point that out. They were both sweaty and breathing heavily, something which in the real world would have set off every single proximity alert in Matt's personal bubble. But here he could control smell and heat and even how much pressure he felt. He loved having the Boss close and he appreciated even more that in the simulation he had enough power to keep his anxiety under control.

“You _do_ know me well.” Matt said. “Very well. I won't spoil it for you, but NyteBlayde finds himself in a similar situation in season five when the Cyprian Order teams up with the brainwashed elite of the American-Russian military. Minus the grenade-gun.”  
“No grenade-gun? They should have hired you as a writer.”

As if that comment wasn't enough to make him blush, the Boss had to underline it by nuzzling his neck. Matt shivered, leaning his head to the side to give the Boss more room.

“Then what would you have done without your very own English superspy to help you save the world? And then avenge it.”

The Boss chuckled, breath ghosting over his skin, clever fingers sneaking under his jacket and shirt. His eyes fluttered close. God, he had missed this.

“You're right. I couldn't have done it without you. I needed you. Still do.”

Matt jerked against the controls, swerving them to the right and into a fence. The Boss cursed under his breath and brought them back on track, temporarily abandoning his exploration of Matt's body.

“Sorry, sorry. Shit. I'm sorry.” Matt stuttered even as the Boss murmured assurances in his ear.

“It's okay. Sorry I spooked you. Didn't expect you to react this strongly.”

“Didn't expect you to say that.” Matt said, taking over the controls again and driving over a few soldiers to calm his nerves. “That you need me.”

Pushing up the body count a little higher, the Boss resumed his soft touching of Matt's body, dragging his hands over it with a reverence like it was a particularly deadly gun. The Boss _was_ a dangerous sociopath, even if Ms Austen had given him 'puckish rogue' for an euphemism, but still Matt felt safer than he'd ever before. Warmer, too. He wiggled out of his jacket, probably looking less sexy than anyone else would have. Some people knew how to look graceful and tempting whatever they did, but Matt was not one of them. The Boss didn't seem to mind.

“I _do_ need you. And while we're at the apologising thing: I should have asked you how you feel about threesomes before inviting Johnny in.”

“He's important to you. I get that. And you want us to get along.”

“Does that mean …?” the Boss asked hopeful.

“Yes, fine, he can join in. _Occasionally_.”

The Boss laughed softly and hugged Matt closer, humming a tune in his ear as they exacted recreational mass-murder on the Cyprian Order.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been almost a month, but I _always_ finish my work, so here you go with the final last chapter, full of threesome smut and, as an added bonus, solving the question of whats up with Johnny Gat's glasses. (Hint: I shamelessly stole the headcanon from the fic 'Sunglasses' here on AO3, which you should totally read, because its awesomesauce.)

In any relationship that involved both the Boss and Johnny Gat, a third party had to resign themselves to being the bottom bitch. Professionally there was no way anyone could stop these two if they were on a roll, privately they were so used to giving the orders an alternative never occurred to them.   
And even knowing that, they still they managed to surprise Matt.  
"Oh God." Matt mumbled, shiny sweat sticking his and Johnny's skin together. The Boss sat between his knees, behind Johnny, and carressed the mans back and shoulders. His cock brushed against Matt's balls.  
"Ride him harder." The Boss said into Johnny's ear, just loud enough for everyone to hear. Johnny grinned and obeyed, looking decidedly too aloof for the fact that he had his ass stuffed full of Matt's cock. He bounced up and down, hands seeking purchase on Matt's hips, too fast and erratic to take one of them to jerk himself off.   
Matt gripped the sheets, thrusting up weakly everytime Johnny sank down on him. He jerked as Johnny clenched around him, impossible tight and wet around him.   
"Fuck yeah." Johnny growled, expression undefinable because he still wore his sunglasses. For some reason they irritated Matt beyond reason. Realising it might well be the last thing he ever did, he pulled Johnny down flush against him, his cock slipping out of that tight heat. He hadn't written novel-length smut fiction just to lie on his back and take it now. With one swift motion he pulled off Johnny's glasses before anyone was any the wiser.   
"Hey, the fuck-"  
Adrenaline spiked in Matt, knowing that there was a distinct possibility that he was the first person to see Johnny Gat without his glasses in what could well be decades. He needed more of it, needed Johnny flushed and panting and desperate and, most of all, forgetting about his lack of eyewear. He reached back, kneaded and spread Johnny's asscheeks and slipped three fingers into his hole without a stretch. Johnny gasped at the intrusion, pushing back, riding his fingers just like he had his cock, his chest still pressed to Matt's.  
"Make yourself useful." Matt said over Johnny's shoulder, high on power and probably in deep shit once this was over. When the Boss laughed and indulged him, going on hands and knees and swallowing his cock like it was nothing, he just rolled with it. For a moment the Boss' mouth, suckling on his tip, made him falter in his rhythm. He turned Johnny's face towards his and kissed him hard, tongue slipping in between his teeth, fingernails digging into Johnny's cheek when the bastard bit him. He added a fourth finger and rammed them in deep, almost knocking Johnny off.   
"Think you can take the Boss and me?" Matt asked between kisses.  
"You need to, ah, ask? Fuck."  
Johnny cursed, whimpering as Matt stretched him wider still, rutting against his stomach. He'd get him begging for it yet. He whined when the Boss filled him up with more lube, dripping cold against Matt's hand, but making Johnny's ass nice and slick for the taking.   
"Lie still now." Matt advised and pushed his cock back in, moaning at the sloppy heat surrounding him. Johnny shivered with need, so much the Boss had to wrap his arms around him to keep him still.   
"Fuck, fuck, fuck ..."  
Johnny's cussing degenerated into a garbled mess, breathing hard into Matt's ear, the warm air making him shiver almost more than the Boss' cock rubbing against his.   
"Does it hurt?"  
"Fuck, of course it hurts. Don't fucking stop."  
The Boss laughed, slid in deeper, all three of them moaning when he bottomed out.   
"Don't move." Matt begged before the Boss made any attempt at it. "I'm close, just ... just give me a second."  
"Fuck that." Johnny growled, rocking back on their cocks, eyes screwed shut. And just like that, Matt's five minutes of dominance were over. The Boss fucked into Johnny, against Matt, holding them both in place for his leisure. Matt could do nothing but hold on, hold out, trying not to come just yet.   
"Fill me up, Matt, fill me with your cum."   
The whisper right next to his ear made him flinch.  
"Cum in me."  
Matt gasped, too strung out for even proper sounds, much less words, as he jerked up and came. His own cum brushed against the tip of his cock, easing the friction between the Boss and him. The Boss sped up, pounding Johnny's ass hard enough to have him grab Matt's shoulders as not to lose balance.   
"Jerk him off, Matt, make him cum."  
The angle was awkward but even with the bonedeep exhaustion overcoming him Matt managed to stroke Johnny to completion with a few hard strokes, tongues touching, licking against each other. The Boss bit into Johnny's shoulder as he was still coming, streaks of cum over Matt's stomach, rutting out his own orgasm.  
  
Disentangling themselves from each other and finding a space on the bed, Johnny in the middle, the Boss and Matt to his left and right, proved to be a challenge as each thought he could leave all the moving around to the other two. Eventually they ended up in a comfortable position however. Cleaning up was something that could come later. Johnny was too tired to even have picked up his sunglasses again. Occasionally his eyes opened, blinking against the light, undoubtedly trying not to fall asleep.  
"Your eyes are gorgeous." Matt remarked. They were, deep brown and eyelashes so dark and thick, other people spend fortunes in make-up and fake lashes to get them like that. "I don't understand why you insist on these glasses all the time."  
"That's actually a good question." The Boss chimed in. Johnny cursed and swatted at the Boss.  
"Thanks for having my back, asshole. Just drop it, okay?"  
The Boss and Matt looked at each other over Johnny's chest and, in a rare moment of telepathy formed a plan. The Boss held Johnny down, yelping and laughing as he tried to buck him off, while Matt dove for the nightstand where the glasses lay. Just as he grabbed them, Johnny pulled at his ankle and in a tumbling heap of yelling and scattered limps all three of them landed on the floor next to the bed, blanket tangled around their bodies.   
"Holy shit." Matt said as he put on the glasses, blinking against his blurry vision. "They're prescription."  
  
Lifting the secret of Johnny Gat's glasses caused a couple of bruises on all sides and a heated discussion that spread over the entire ship whether or not clear glasses looked nerdy. The consensus after three weeks of dispute turned out to be: Yes, unless you were Johnny Gat or possibly Beyoncé.  
  
  
  
  



End file.
